


Vengeance Act

by prospective



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Anti-Hero, Character Death, Coming of Age, Coping, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Peter Parker, Drama, Drugs, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Redemption, Tragedy, vengeance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23244334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prospective/pseuds/prospective
Summary: A tragic story of a young Peter Parker who never learned that with great power comes great responsibility. Witness the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man we know and love succumb to vengeance and substance abuse as he struggles to cope with the death of his beloved uncle. Explores mature themes and will contain graphic material. Read at your own discretion. Extremely AU
Relationships: Peter Parker/Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

#  **PART I:**

_“I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it. And, I was really…I was alive.” - Walter White, Breaking Bad_

* * *

In a flash, Peter grabbed the railing of the stairs and pulled himself on top, lunging forward just as the man in black jacket ran past. Catching the jacket hem, Peter jerked the criminal back and they tumbled onto the floor towards the windowed wall of the abandoned building. The man jolted around to face Peter and frantically crawled backwards, screaming for help as he clutched his duffle bag against his chest.

The dim light from outside the window illuminated the man’s face. As Peter stood up, he recognized the man from when he let him escape on the elevator not too long ago. His blood boiled and he tore off his ski mask to spit at him, “You son of a bitch!”

“Stay away from me!” The criminal whimpered. Still retreating backwards, he pulled out a knife and pointed it out helplessly.

Peter stepped down on the man’s armed hand, stifling another scream with a knee to the face from his other leg. He reached down to pull him up by the collar and pressed him against the window, casting a better light on the face of his uncle’s killer. The knife cluttered down to the concrete floor.

A helicopter billowed at the distant sky, shining a beam of light along its surrounding buildings. Sirens blared from the streets, red and blue lights flashed in slivers along the bottom of the window pane where the murderer was pressed up against.

“P-please, let me go,” the man’s whole body trembled. “I-I’ll give you a share of my money. Here, my bag.”

Peter smacked the bag away. This man had been nothing but a coward since he began chasing him. Now he had the gall to offer money as appeasement for his uncle’s death?

“Know what, fine, y-you can take all of it. Just give me a chance. P-please don’t—”

“You insult me,” Peter growled.

He picked the man up and pushed him back harder against the window and shattered it open. As he held him by the edge of the building, the man screamed, kicking and flailing erratically against his arms. The helicopter’s light beam shifted towards them, and Peter had to squint from the brightness. 

Through the light, he looked at the man’s face, frightened and helpless, and he caught his breath—he shuddered.

His rage could only provoke him, and he was tempted to drop the man in front of him. But was that what Uncle Ben would have wanted him to do? He murdered Uncle Ben, he deserved to die, but somehow, his conviction stopped him. His head began to hurt.

Spotting Peter’s hesitation, the criminal threw himself to the side of the window frame and pulled himself inwards, kicking Peter out simultaneously. Too shocked to react, Peter fell down. He watched the building grow taller and, turning around, the streets accelerate towards him.

~One week earlier~

The bell rang to signify his first class of the day, biology. The first period being his spare period, he had time to painstakingly finish his research paper for Social Studies in the library. Sue him for not being all worked up about the Opium Wars of the mid-19th century. His uncle could afford it.

He walked out of the library and along the school halls with his head down low, clasping his binder to his chest with one hand and gripping his backpack strap with the other. It wasn’t that he was distressed at this particular moment. He just grew accustomed to holding tight to his belongings, knowing it would only take one skid to pluck it off him and he’ll be the target of numerous binder drops and backpack yeets for the next several weeks after. Holding tight became second nature to him at this point.

Of course, that didn’t stop jocks like Flash from harassing him anyway. And today was no exception. Normally, Peter knew he should never take this hallway just for this reason, but he was already running late and didn’t expect the jocks to still be hanging around their locker area.

No point turning back now. He simply closed his eyes, hoping they wouldn't see him because he couldn’t see them. A logic that never ends well for obvious reasons.

“Ey there, Parker!” Flash snickered as Peter walked by. “Scared of looking at us?”

Peter instinctively picked up his pace—a huge mistake.

“Is he running? Guys, I think he’s planning on joining track this year!” Laughs erupted among the jocks at the now otherwise mostly empty hallway.

Without warning, a strong hand shoved Peter down to the ground. His bony knees buckled and his binder scuttled along the floor. Even after being treated like this by his peers for so long, it still hurt whenever his skinny frame hit the ground.

“Ugh, stop it, Flash,” a bored yet familiar female voice said. “We’ll be late for class.”

Mary Jane Watson. The most beautiful girl in Midtown High—uncontested. His next-door neighbour, too.

One would be surprised to learn that there was a time when someone like her used to be close to Peter. Both their aunts were friends, after all. But his relationship with her strayed many years ago.

Flash lightly pushed down on Peter’s head and made him land face-first to the lino floor. The scent of iron filled his nose. 

“You better watch where you’re going, Parker,” he said over Peter, who was still struggling to get up.

Sniggers and high-fives sounded behind Peter before the group started to disperse. The show was over. They’ve had enough of him for the morning, at least.

As they walked away, Peter heard MJ say quietly: “Damn, Flash, leave the kid alone.”

“Come on, he was asking for it…” Flash argued.

Peter’s elbows stung from the impact it had on the ground. He lurched himself up and pulled his glasses up against his nose. He’d modified the temple tips so that it never fell off by accident.

The hallways were completely vacant at this point except for the straggling jocks who didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get to class. Peter assumed they had spares, which would explain them being at their lockers for longer than he expected. He made sure to take note of that in case he was ever late from first period again.

Peter staggered over to where his binder scuttled to only to see that a girl had picked it up. Great, an audience. Peter grew pink at the thought of her seeing him go through that, but his embarrassment went away after getting a good look at her.

Her head hung low as if she was afraid to show herself, but her bob haircut was short enough to reveal her extremely freckled face. Her freckles were less than what MJ had, but much more prominent. Her large glasses covered much of her face, but Peter wasn’t one to talk. His glasses weren’t all that smaller, anyway.

“Uh,” Peter said, trying to remember her name. “That’s my binder.”

“Y-yeah,” she said, awkwardly extending it towards him. “Sorry. Here.”

“Jessica, right?”

She nodded and gave out a small chuckle, which made Peter smile despite having just been physically assaulted. He lifted up his binder and said thanks and turned around to go to class.

“Oop—Your backpack’s open and a book fell out,” she called to him.

Peter hurried back with his face burning hot and just then, the final bell rang. Peter flashed her an embarrassed look and hauled the book up, not wasting a breath before dashing towards his biology class.

“You’re late,” Gwen said to Peter as he sat down next to her desk.

“Thanks, I didn’t know,” Peter said in between breaths, still exhausted from his short sprint to class.

“What took you so long?” Harry asked, leaning over past Gwen.

“I was busy selling weed.”

Harry snorted. “As if you’d ever even touch one.”

“Have you got your form signed?” Gwen asked, waving her permission slip for their field trip to Oscorp today. 

Peter’s eyes widened. “I forgot.”

“Typical.” Gwen lightly slapped her paper on Peter’s head and her jaw dropped. “Gosh, Peter, your mouth is bleeding!” She grabbed his head to get a better look and quickly got up to get some tissue paper.

Peter licked his bottom lip, swearing he wasn’t bleeding before while Harry looked at him sympathetically.

“Flash again?”

Peter only grimaced. He touched his lips to look at the splotch of blood on his finger as Gwen returned to clean him hectically.

“You need to start standing up for yourself,” she said, dabbing a ball of tissue paper to his mouth

“I would if there wasn’t, like, ten of them.”

“Here, do this,” Gwen said, stretching her lips as if to put on a lipstick, which Peter imitated obediently.

Her tending to him had calmed down a little, only swiping his lips of any residual redness. Peter watched as Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration and her nose wrinkled with worry. Perhaps MJ’s beauty wasn’t uncontested after all. Her blue eyes stared back and Harry looked on at them with pursed lips.

“It’s nothing,” Peter said, grabbing the tissue paper from Gwen. “You should see the other guy.”

“Oh, shut up,” Gwen said, crossing her arms, watching him concernedly.

“Let him be, Gwen.” Harry playfully put his arms around Gwen. “He’s not a kid anymore.”

Peter looked away and saw Kenneth Jones gawking at him with disgust from the other end of the classroom.

“Shit, that’s gross,” Kenneth Jones said. “Parker is bleeding.”

“Ew,” a girl from the back squealed, “does he have aids or something?”

Harry snickered and Gwen rolled her eyes. The girl from the back was saved from one of Gwen’s lectures when their Biology teacher, Mr. Gunnette, finally walked in.

“At least I still came in earlier than him,” Peter murmured.

“I need your permission slips here, quickly! Give it to me and go on the school bus waiting at the stops.” Mr. Gunnette announced loudly as he grabbed his back from his desk and hurrying back to the door. “We’re gonna be late for the tour so hurry up!”

“Does he mean _he_ is going to make us late?” Harry muttered as he stood up. “Sorry, Pete. Guess you can’t come.”

“What do you mean Peter can’t come?” Mr. Gunnette asked as other students sped past him, passing their slips to his chest.

“Sorry, sir,” Peter said. “I forgot to get mine signed.”

“Ah, whatever. Just go. I want you there.” he winked at Peter, who thanked him profusely.

Gwen giggled as they walked to the bus stops and said: “Who says you’re not a teacher’s pet?”

“Absolutely no one,” Harry said, laughing.

“Shut up, you guys.”

“You better come back in one piece or else you’re gonna get Mr. Gunnette in trouble!” Gwen sang on their ride to New York City’s finest science institution.

“He’d die before he does that,” Harry said, and Gwen’s laughter filled the air.

“Aaah!”

A spider bit Peter on his neck. Surprisingly, it was Gwen who screamed for him.

“Get it off!” she squealed.

“Calm down, Gwen,” Harry chuckled as Peter swiped at the spider. “You acting as if it landed on you, not him”

“Did it bite you? Are you hurt?”

“Does he look hurt?” Harry asked.

Gwen glared at Harry as Peter waved the spider off from his back. Her eyes widened in fright as she watched it crawl away from his feet and onto the floor, but it was when Harry stepped on it did her breath hitch.

“You’ve killed it!” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Harry replied.

“That spider was specifically bred for scientific purposes and you just stepped on it!”

“Well, I thought you wanted it dead.”

“No, Harry, I wanted it off of Peter so he wouldn’t get bitten. Who knows what kind of venom that spider carried.”

“Calm down, you two,” Peter leaned down to take a better look at the spider, scratching his neck, which was starting to itch. “You didn’t need to worry, Gwen. Spiders don’t just bite you for no reason.”

“It probably never intended to until Gwen began screaming,” Harry laughed then looked at the squashed spider. “Uh…Are we in trouble?”

A period of silence fell before Gwen spoke. “Not if we all keep this a secret.”

He went by the rest of the day rather normally. His neck began itching, but he’d merely brushed it off with his shirt collar, knowing that it would only get worse if he deliberately scratched it. By last period, Peter began to feel lightheaded. When the bell rang, he walked the hallways just by muscle memory. One moment, he saw Flash standing with his gang on his way to the exit, and he could tell he was saying something to him, probably taunts and insults, but Peter was too delirious to acknowledge it.

Still, he never felt the bite until he was on his train bus ride home. His neck had been itching the entire day, but it wasn’t until he finally scratched the swollen area by instinct did he begin to feel the sting. Then came the fever. The high temperature. His muscles began contracting.

And not even remembering how he got home, he passed out on his bed.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke to a knock on his door. He groaned and his whole body ached. Another knock. His muscles felt tight. Too tight. A louder knock.

“Pedro, your blind date is here,” Uncle Ben said through the door.

Peter opened his eyes and quickly sat up, making his abdomen sear with pain. He squeezed his stomach further and the pain heightened, but it oddly felt amazing at the same time. His core somehow felt stronger than ever. His arms felt thick, so as he clenched his fists, he looked down at his body.

Or…someone else’s body.

Someone else’s really jacked body.

“Fuck me,” he said under his breath.

His chest bulged through his shirt, his arms squeezing through his tight sleeves, biceps tightening as he twisted his forearms to look at his hands. He touched his abdomen and felt rows of rocks under his thin layer of skin.

Damn, what a dream this was. His breathing was calm despite his surprised state, the air flowing smoothly in and out of his lungs. His senses felt so sharp, he could hear his uncle breathing behind the door. And his eyes—he wasn’t wearing any glasses! 

“Peter,” Uncle Ben called again. “Are you dressed yet? She’s waiting downstairs.”

“Who’s waiting?” Peter asked.

“Your blind date!”

“My blind date?” Peter’s head snapped to his clock. It was 3:57 PM, meaning he slept for about fifteen minutes. “Isn’t that for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow _is_ today! It’s Saturday and you slept in all morning!”

“Shit,” Peter whispered and shouted back, “I’m coming!”

The room felt hot and his date was waiting, so he quickly tugged his shirt over his head, ripping it in two in the meantime. Great. He stood up warily, not used to the stability his newfound strength gave him—how ironic.

“I’m still dreaming, right?” Peter called to the door, arms spread out carefully.

“Just get out already,” Uncle Ben said, walking away. “Your aunt’s been trying to entertain her for, like, ten minutes now.” 

Peter dove through his closet to find some decent clothing. This blind date wasn’t something he was too excited about, but he did promise his aunt and uncle that he’d finally get a girlfriend if they’d allow him to go to ComicCon with Harry. Plus, he didn’t want to disappoint them. It was, after all, apparently set up with a good friend of theirs.

Peter resorted to a bomber jacket Gwen gave him for his birthday and a pull-on khaki pants. He probably looked ridiculous, but he didn’t care. He was jacked! He combed his hair to the side with his fingers and instinctively grabbed for his glasses to put them on. His vision blurred, and he threw them off, startled.

“No glasses, awesome,” he said to himself as he looked around his room.

After a few tiptoes to his desk facing the window, he saw the view outside, impressing him. The cracked curb, the trash bins, the flaking fences, the accuracy. Amazing. He looked down and picked up a pen from the desk and saw dirt in places he never thought to look before.

“Wow, “ he nodded approvingly. “Very realistic. Very detailed.” 

A crash of silverware and frantic voices brought Peter back to the present. He sighed, zooming straight outside his room. He didn’t account for his new speed so he almost smacked his head on the doorway, only saving himself by quickly putting his hands out.

“Who’s body is this?” Peter grinned, looking back to his mirror to admire his new body frame one more time. “It’s mine, for now.”

He slipped outside the door and dashed down the stairs where he heard the familiar voice of Mary Jane Watson. He froze as he saw her.

“Again, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Parker,” she said to Aunt May, who was picking up the spoons and forks under the table as she herself leaned on the wall, scrolling through her phone.

“Don’t you be sorry, MJ,” Aunt May said, looking up the stairway. “Oh, look! Peter’s here!”

Peter waved and MJ’s jaw dropped. They stared at each other for a while, admiring each other’s attire. It seemed like Peter chose the right clothes to wear after all. She was wearing a tight black sweater zipped up to her chest, revealing a full red shirt that complemented her striking red hair. MJ closed her mouth and swallowed.

“You look different,” Aunt May said, crawling out from under the table. “Where are your glasses?”

“Uh, contacts,” he replied, which earned him an odd look from his aunt. He needed to make something better up if he wanted to lie to his aunt and uncle.

“Come on, tiger,” MJ said. “We have a date to catch up on.”

Aunt May finally stood up and began to put the silverware on the sink. She looked at Peter with pursed lips, clearly not pleased with the lack of help she was having. “Have fun, you two. Your uncle’s running some errands upstate so he’ll be gone for some time. I expect you to be back here before he does.”

“Aunt May,” Peter smiled at his aunt’s sarcasm and kissed her in the cheeks before leading MJ out the door. “See you soon!”

As the door closed, MJ slid her arm around Peter’s, feeling around his hard muscles, making him a little uncomfortable.

“Wow, Pete,” she said. “You seem bigger—you _feel_ bigger.”

He laughed nervously. “Uh, thanks. I’ve been, uh, lifting weights.”

The familiarity in the way she said his name made his heart skip a beat. It felt strange hearing her address him as if she hadn’t been ignoring him since they went to high school and holding him as if she had always done so.

“Uh-huh, seems like you have. I guess I just never noticed,” she said, letting go to walk around her old sedan. “How come you never dress like that at school?”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he watched her open her car door to enter. “This is how I usually dress like.”

MJ let out a sardonic laugh over the roof. She stared at him, looking him over.

“Let’s see,” she said before sitting down inside on the driver’s seat, “I’ve never seen you with that jacket on, first of all.”

Peter stiffly followed suit and closed the door beside him. The smell of skunk filled the air and he couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose.

”And you’re not wearing your glasses.” She turned to him and smirked, “What, you don’t like the smell of weed? Of course, you don’t. You’ve never tried it before.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s my fault, I’m sorry. I haven’t smoked inside here in a while but the smell never leaves.”

She started the car and shifted the stick to first gear.

“You can drive standard?” he said without thinking. He quickly closed his mouth as she looked at him narrowly before speeding the car off to the street and quickly shifting the stick to second gear, then to third gear. “Of course you can.”

MJ laughed, a real, throaty one this time. He knew it was real because he recognized it from the distant past he thought he missed so much. But, looking around her car, with the empty gum wrappers and a few old rolled joints littered around her dashboard and seats and floor, along with the potent smell of weed almost suffocating him, he deduced there wasn’t much to miss after all.

Yet, as he sat next to her on the passenger seat and despite their years apart, somehow, not a single awkward silence befell between them. They talked as if they’ve always been friends, telling each other about their weekends. Only that this particular weekend happened to span over a really long time. So many new stories to tell, so many new things to discover from each other.

MJ’s laugh filled the air over Cunningham Park. The setting sun among the trees cast an orange tinge across the sky, the yellow autumn leaves blending into the blazing veil.

“That’s definitely a lie,” MJ said as they walked along the empty street.

“Nope,” Peter shook his head, “it’s true, unfortunately.”

“It’s _true_?”

Peter nodded, making MJ cackle.

“Wow! I remember everyone in school talking about that but I never actually believed it! I still don’t know how that happened,” MJ said, jumping on ahead and walking backwards, facing Peter. “What could have possibly made Peter Parker, Midtown High’s biggest nerd, to pull that fire alarm?”

“It wasn’t intentional or anything!”

“Sure it wasn’t.”

“I was just dragging my hand along the wall as I walked.” Peter threw his hands up innocently. “I didn’t even know that the fire alarm was there!”

“Okay, _that_ might have been the lie,” MJ said.

Peter dropped his head. “You’re right, I knew it was there.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

“Surprisingly, no. I went straight to the principal’s office to tell him it was me, and he let me off with just a warning.”

MJ scoffed mirthfully. “Seriously?”

“Yep. No punishment. He was like, ‘I know you’re a good kid, Peter. I can tell you didn’t do this maliciously so I won’t punish you.’ And I was like,” Peter pulled his elbow in and hissed: “‘Yeah!’”

MJ slowly shook her head in disbelief, letting her hair billow slightly around her freckled face.

“Your turn,” Peter said, keeping his eyes on her.

“Let’s see,” MJ tapped a finger to her chin. “I was driving one night from this party. It was past curfew and I was a little drunk so you could tell I wasn’t thinking straight at this time.” MJ laughed nervously. “I, uh…There was this kid riding a bike. He was all in black, the bicycle didn’t have reflectors on it or anything. I hit his front wheel and he fell over. He didn’t seem hurt, you know, but I got scared, so I drove off and went home. Got this huge ticket on the mail the next day.”

Peter stopped walking and stared at her. “So, a hit and run.”

MJ nodded, smiling with her arms crossed.

“I wanna say lie,” Peter said thoughtfully, “but I feel like this is a truth.”

MJ’s face dropped with indignation. “What do you think of me? It’s a lie!” She playfully pushed him, though he barely moved backwards.

“I’m sorry!” Peter sniggered. “The way you told it, though—it was so believable! You know, you make a really good actress.”

MJ removed her hands from Peter’s chest and smiled, looking down. She flipped her hair nonchalantly but her reddening face told Peter she was very much flattered. “Thanks,” she said.

They shared truths and lies liberally as they walked back to MJ’s car, laughing the entire time. As the evening descended upon them, it felt to Peter as if they had never been closer before. In the end, however, they remained two very different people.

Peter closed the door and began putting on his seatbelt when he saw MJ looking at him intently. After spending the afternoon, he was sure he wasn’t dreaming after all. At first, he’d been dreading the time he woke up from this dreamful sleep, but as time went on, his worries dissipated.

MJ still hadn’t started the car yet, and instead ran her fingers through her hair and let it fall to one side, giving him a better view of her face.

“Will you pinch me?” Peter held out an arm.

MJ smiled and pushed his arm down, placing a hand on his thigh, making him sit up straight. Slowly, she slid her fingers higher until she could feel the outline of his hardening manhood, which, without needing to glance down, Peter could tell was now much larger than he remembered. His pulse increased and his breathing deepened.

“W-what are you doing?” he asked weakly.

“Let’s face it, tiger,” she breathed alluringly, slowly leaning forward towards him, crawling to his seat. “We just hit the jackpot.”

MJ leaned over his head, her hair falling down beside Peter’s face, the scent of cinnamon overpowering the stench of weed in her car. Her lips, flush, full, hypnotic, inched closer to his. Her sleepy green eyes glinted, shifting between his left and right brown eyes. A hand crawled its way under Peter’s shirt and traced his quivering abdomen. He swallowed and shuddered at the sound of her voice huskily whispering his name. 

He couldn’t believe what was happening. MJ was coming onto him. Harry would definitely not believe it if he told him, but it was true. Gwen would, well…

This was too much. It was all too much for one day. What in the world was happening to him? He woke up in someone else’s body and now he was about to make out with someone in a janky old car parked on a dim, empty parking lot? He turned his head to the side, avoiding MJ’s lips at the last second and letting out a long, shaky breath.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

MJ froze on top, looking down at him as if he had just rejected the hottest girl in his school. Right, that’s exactly what he just did. She retreated back to her seat and started the car, driving them home without a word.

They didn’t talk for the rest of their trip. MJ only spoke again after Peter stepped out of the car and closed the door. She slid down the door window and leaned forward to look up at him. He leaned down in return.

“I had a fun time with you, Pete.”

She drove on to her house next door and he watched as she entered her garage, waiting until the beam from the taillights disappeared behind the garage door sliding down.

Peter entered the house and let out a huge exhale as he walked to the refrigerator in the kitchen. Uncle Ben sat at the dinner table, reading a book on one hand and holding a cup of tea in another.

“How was it?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Peter replied. “I’m just…confused.”

He pulled out a box of milk and chugged its contents straight from it.

“Hey,” Uncle Ben chided. “Get a glass, you filthy young man.”

Peter ignored him and finished the milk, gasping for air afterwards.

“It’s empty now, anyway.” He grinned at his uncle, who merely sighed as Peter dropped the box into the trash bin.

He sat down on the seat next to his uncle’s and placed his chin on top of his forearms on the table. Uncle Ben closed his book and leaned back on his seat, looking at him patiently.

“I thought I liked her,” Peter said. “I’m pretty sure I should—I mean, we’ve just had such a great time together. But…”

Uncle Ben waited. “But you’ve realized something.”

“I realized how shitty she’s treated me for the past few years. You know, I was gonna…” Peter chuckled. “…I was gonna ask to marry her once high school started.”

Uncle Ben cracked slightly. “You were?”

Peter nodded. “That’s what I told myself when she kissed me on the eighth-grade graduation.”

“I remember,” Uncle Ben wheezed. “You wouldn’t wash your cheeks for a week after that!”

They bellowed in laughter. Uncle Ben rolled back and fell from his seat, adding to their mirth. Peter dropped to the floor with him and, after a while, helped him up to settle back down on the table.

“Your acne was so bad that whole summer because of that,” Uncle Ben said.

Peter chuckled and clasped his hands together. They both quieted down as he stared at it.

“And then, high school did come. She hung out with these other kids she met. Guess they were more like her. Then there she went. She acted like I never existed.”

“Kids make dumb mistakes sometimes,” Uncle Ben said. “All the time, actually. What matters is she’s trying to get to know you again.”

“It’s probably just because of how I looked.”

“Oh, Peter,” Uncle Ben raised his eyebrows. “You do look different.”

Peter smiled and sat up straight. “Thanks.”

“Look, I’m sorry for not even being aware of this transformation of yours.” Uncle Ben put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “What you’ve done is admirable, you know—working out and getting fit and healthy. It’s my fault for being so distant lately and not being there for you along the way.”

“No, Uncle Ben,” Peter said chuckling. “You haven’t been distant at all. Really, you didn’t miss anything.”

“Never undersell your efforts.” Uncle Ben leaned back and took a sip of his tea. “Your aunt told me about your new contacts, too.”

“Oh, yeah, Harry bought it for me for our, uh…” Peter lied. “It’s like our friendship anniversary or something.”

“Huh, that Osborn,” Uncle Ben smiled, slowly shaking his head. ”How long have you been working out, anyway?”

“A few months,” Peter lied again. Damn, he needed to get better at this.

“What did Miss Stacy say about that?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Uncle Ben!”

“What?” Uncle Ben replied jovially. “It only seems fitting to ask what your female friend thinks about you. I still can’t see why you never asked her out, anyway.”

“I told you, Harry likes her.” Peter buried his head under his jacket.

“But does she like him?”

The back door opened and in came Aunt May, returning from her shift at the hospital. She called out a greeting from the entryway.

“Aunt May liked me more than she liked my buddies, I can tell you that.” Uncle Ben gave Peter a wink before getting up to meet her in the hallway. 

Aunt May joined them at the table and they continued into lighter conversations for the evening. Before Peter knew it, they were saying their goodnights and were off to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to. He sat up from his bed and looked at his dim reflection on the mirror. He’d had dreams within dreams before, and he really didn’t want this one to end yet. Looking at the veiled contours of his muscles, it was then did it hit him.

Gwen had to like him now.

He checked his phone for the first time today and opened Snapchat.

“ _U up?_ ” he sent with a selfie, which Gwen opened it soon enough. He took a deep breath and anticipated her reply as he always did. He paced around his room, thinking of things to say. He should have thought this through before sending anything..

She replied with just a picture of her, smiling. Peter’s heart began to race.

“What do I say to that?” he gasped exasperatedly.

He took another selfie and sat down on the ground to type his response. 

“ _Hi_ , no. _Cool_ , heck no. _Nice smile_ , okay, just stop.”

Amidst erasing the texts, he accidentally clicked the send button.

“Shit.” Peter palmed his face.

Gwen replied immediately. “ _How and why are you in the ceiling?_ ”

Confused, Peter looked up.

His bed was above him. And so was his desk. So was everything in his room except for the light bulbs. He was hanging upside down from the ceiling.

“The heck?” He dropped to the floor, hard on his back. “Ouch.”

He heard his uncle telling him to quiet down from downstairs, but that was the least of his concern at the moment. He crawled his way to the nearest wall and placed his hands against it. Pulling it down, his hands came off as expected. He placed it against the wall again, this time dragging himself up. It stuck, as if his fingers were magnetically attracted to the wall. He did the motion until he was standing straight up, then he looked at his hands.

Definitely not sleeping tonight.

He called Gwen’s phone, breathing heavily: “Can I come over to your place tonight?”

“Uh…sure,” she said. “Wait, why?”

Peter didn’t hear her last question as he had lept out of his window and bolted north towards Manhattan. She lived on the other side of the East River, but that didn’t matter to him. For the first time, he was running faster than he could imagine. For the first time, he was really seeing clearly. And for the first time, he felt alive. 

As the cool evening air brushed against his face, he couldn’t suppress a yell in exhilaration. His voice echoed throughout the neighbourhood, and he was gone before anybody got up to see him on their street. The thrill of feeling this power surge through his body brought him awake, and as he crossed the Whitestone Bridge and entered Manhattan, the lights of Downtown New York clouded his eyes, and he felt high.

Peter saw Gwen through her apartment room window, sitting at her desk, lazily browsing something on her laptop. He knocked on the glass pane and watched her turn her head in surprise. She ran up to him and opened the window.

“Peter!” she hissed, suppressing a laugh.

“Hi,” he said, crouched down on the fire escape landing. “Can I, uh, come in?”

“Of course,” she said, stepping aside and tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “How did you…?”

“How’d I get up here?” Peter climbed in.

‘I mean, you must’ve climbed all the way up.” Gwen looked outside and down the street before turning to him, giggling. “We’re really up high.”

“Well, you know,” he said as he walked to and sat on her bed. “I didn’t want your family to know I’m here.”

“What _are_ you doing here?” she said following him hesitantly. She visibly noted where he was and swallowed before sitting beside him. “It’s late at night—and where are your glasses?”

“I can’t sleep,” he said, scooting closer to her. Her mouth opened and he could feel her breathing heavily against his mouth. “And I wanted to see you.”

She blinked and leaned slightly backwards. “What happened with your blind date?”

“Nothing.” Peter leaned closer. “Only that it made me realize how much I want you.”

Gwen’s breath hitched and Peter dove in for the kiss. She froze for a moment, but as he grasped her face with both hands, she pulled him closer and melted into his body. Their lips devoured each other’s until they were both laying on the bed and Peter moved down to her neck, breathing in her scent and drawing his lips over her collar bone.

“Peter,” Gwen moaned. “You’ve no idea…just how much…I’ve wanted this.”

She dug her fingers into his hair, pulling him deeper against her skin. She ran her other hand down to his back and let out a squeak. The more she felt around his back, the more erratic her breathing became.

Meanwhile, all Peter could think to do was engulf himself in her warmth, rubbing himself against her crotch, touching her in the most delicate of places. He groaned as Gwen’s hands moved to his abdomen, dragging her fingers across and down to his pants where his manhood bulged through.

They met each other’s eyes for a moment as if to ask, “Are we ready for this?” but the look of hunger on both their eyes answered for them

They hastily tugged their shirts off, eager to bury themselves back in one another. Gwen pulled Peter’s pants down with her legs while Peter tore her leggings off. She smacked his chest in protest but immediately pulled him back down to her. They returned to kissing each other without reservation, their tongues wrestling for dominance until his own forced its way into her mouth, roaming around and grappling with hers.

Gwen reached down to wrap her hands around his cock, throbbing harder than ever. Peter clumsily grabbed it and placed it towards the entrance of Gwen's vagina.

“This is my first time,” Gwen breathed.

“I’ll go slow.”

Carefully, Peter slid into her and watched her eyes close, her mouth opening to a small circle. Peter continued to slide deeper and her mouth closed to a purse.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “You’re beautiful.”

He held on to her full bottom as he slid back, feeling her walls hug his cock tightly, the sensation coursing through his body and urging him to slide back in a little faster this time.

“Keep going.”

He slid back and forth, slowly increasing his speed, but it wasn’t long until he felt himself close to climaxing. He pulled out and ejaculated on her, spilling his load over her belly as he moaned her name in ecstasy. Still slowly stroking his dick pleasurably, it was then did Peter realize what he just did. Gwen seemed to have caught on as well because a look of horror replaced her dazed expression. With wide eyes, they looked at each other in fright.

Gwen sat up and dragged herself away, wiping his cum off with the back of her hand and hugging her knees. Tears swelled in her eyes as she looked at him helplessly.

“Peter…”

“Hey, hey.” Peter crawled towards her to wrap her in his arms. “Don’t worry, I-I pulled out.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” She cried, pushing him away and standing up.

“I’m so sorry, Gwen.”

She pulled her hair back and exhaled deeply, shaking her head with her eyes closed. “Oh no.”

Peter was just as lost at her. He couldn’t even bear to think about what would happen if she got pregnant. How would Uncle Ben and Aunt May react? What would Harry say? The entire school? Gwen’s dad was extremely conservative and he would never let her get an abortion. He had guns, he would kill Peter, for sure. And how would Gwen survive school? Life?

A baby. His baby. Born as an accident. How stupid, irresponsible, insensitive of him.

He grabbed his hair with both hands, looking down on the messy bed he was sitting on. His eyes shut tightly and he whispered again, hoarsely, “I’m so sorry, Gwen.”

He felt the bed bounce from one end and he looked up to see her, sitting with her bare back towards him. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably and Peter’s heart broke. How did he fuck up so badly already? 

A suppressed giggle sounded for her direction, making him do a double-take.

“Gwen?”

The giggle became louder and he watched her lay down on the bed uncontrollably, snickering with both hands clutching her stomach. Her face was full of mirth. Had he made her gone crazy?

“G-Gwen?”

Gwen broke into hysterics and she slapped her knees, wheezing. “You should have seen the look on your face!” 

“W-what?”

Gwen rolled over to face him, grinning wildly. “Mom started making me take birth control pills last year. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Fuck me,” Peter sighed exasperatedly. “That wasn’t funny.”

“It really is,” Gwen choked out through laughter.

“You really freaked me out.”

“Wow!” Gwen pushed herself up. “That was amazing!”

“That was _so_ not.”

“No, I meant the sex!” Gwen bent over to pick her clothes up from the floor, giving Peter a wonderful view of her bottom.

“Yeah,” Peter sighed wistfully. ”It was.”

She stood up and held her destroyed leggings towards him. “Did you have to rip this off, though?”

Peter imitated his crying voice. “ _I’m so sorry, Gwen_.”

She snorted and threw the leggings at him. Then she jumped to his lap, leaning in for another kiss. Still naked, Gwen still wet, and Peter hard again, the fucked, Gwen on top this time. She bounced on his shaft at a much quicker pace than Peter went last time, the rhythm sending waves of pleasure throughout their body so their elation brought their minds to bliss. Gwen came, hunching over, tensed and shaking. She clutched at Peter’s solid shoulders and shoved his dick deeper inside her, causing him to come inside.

They moaned each other’s name lengthily and collapsed on the bed. Gwen cuddled up next to Peter, laying her head on the crook of his neck and placing a hand on his chest.

“Thank your mom for me for making you take those pills.”

Gwen sighed relaxedly.

“I can’t believe she’s right after all,” Gwen smiled against his skin. “She’s been worried I only hang out with you and Harry but I told her nothing was ever going to happen if it wasn’t with you. And I thought you’d never do something.”

“Ah,” Peter hummed, tracing circles on her arm. “ _I’m so sorry, Gwen_.”

Gwen giggled. “I know I might have gone too far but please stop saying that.”

Enthralled by her adorable laugh, Peter kissed her on the nose and breathed in, the smell of her hair intoxicating him. He had always liked her scent but now that he could get a whiff freely, he was hooked.

Gwen lightly bit his chest. “Damn, Peter. You’re…hot. Fuck.” She shifted on the bed to get a good look at him.

“Uh, thanks,” Peter grinned. “You’re incredibly hot, too.”

“No, I mean,” Gwen continued eyeing him up and down. “I—how—what…”

“It’s the spider,” Peter blurted out. “I think.”

“Huh?”

“You know, from the field trip. It bit me.”

Gwen sat up, a confused look on her face.

“Something happened.” Peter sat up as well. “I dunno. Everything just went blurry on my way home and when I woke up this afternoon…” he gestured to his bare body, “I had…these.”

Gwen pursed her lips in deep thought. “Who else knows about this?”

Peter laid back down on the bed. “No one.”

“Not even your aunt? Your uncle?”

Gwen looked down on him and watched Peter shake his head. She raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“What about your blind date today?”

Peter only scoffed. “I don’t like her very much.”

Gwen slapped his chest. “That’s so rude!”

“It’s true.”

“Do you plan on telling anyone else?”

Peter thought about it for a while before replying. “No.”

“Not even Harry?”

“Especially not Harry,” Peter said humorously. “He’ll probably do something stupid like going back to his dad’s place and getting spiders to bite him too.”

“That’s sweet,” Gwen laughed. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

She leaned over for a quick peck on his lips before getting up from the bed. As she walked away, Peter couldn’t resist the urge to smack her supple ass cheeks.

Gwen looked at him with a shocked expression, mouth hanging offendedly, and Peter snickered despite himself. She rolled her eyes and began putting her shirt back on and got a new pair of pyjama pants from the drawer. She tossed her ripped up leggings in the trash bin while giving him a playful glare before sitting back on her desk.

“What are you up to?” Peter asked, lazily admiring her body underneath her thin clothes.

“I need to finish my History project.”

“Awesome,” Peter said sarcastically, but keeping to their friendship routine, he asked her. “What’s it about?”

“I’m doing one on the Battle of Stalingrad. It started in 1942 when Nazi Germany finally…” Gwen went on about her subject as if she knew it front and back. Peter, not too interested in history, listened passively as he watched her present to him with enthusiastic gestures. Her blonde, curly locks of hair were still dishevelled from their previous activities, but it did nothing to hide her beauty. He could just look at her all day and he would be the most satisfied man in the world.

He fucked his friend Gwen Stacy.

Twice.

It was the greatest night of his life.

After not too long, lulled by the sound of her soft voice, he fell asleep on her soft bed.


End file.
